It’s the week of Christmas and I’m pretty much panicking. The presents need to be wrapped. Some still need to be bought. I have all of my 75 or so cards to be addressed and posted. Some need to be sent overseas, so that requires a trip to the post office- WHICH I ABHOR!

So I’m feeling panicked.

And then I had a reality check.

I’m an ass hole.

I’m worried about the abundance around me when others have hardly enough.

There’s my friend Beth. She’s the one with Stage IV metastatic breast cancer. I’m sure in her mind she’s wondering if this is her last Christmas with her kids. Especially since just this week she lost 5 or so friends of her’s in the metastatic community. Not to mention the jerk face guy from Komen who basically walked away from her when she asked him for more dedicated funding for research. I would say Beth isn’t worried about Christmas cards. (http://cultofperfectmotherhood.com/komen-is-not-coming-to-save-us/)

I have a cousin Clare, also stage IV breast cancer. It’s not often you know two people who are dying from the same disease. We wish for more time at Christmas to get everything done. They’re just wishing for more time period.

When the song on the radio comes on, “I’ll be Home For Christmas” by Josh Groban, and the men and women stationed overseas serving our country leave recorded messages to their loved ones back home, I can’t help but cry. They know it’s their duty. They serve and protect no matter what. But missing out on your kids’ Christmas morning would break my heart. And they do it. They are our heroes.

We tell ourselves that we only need to do so much. That it’s okay if the cookies don’t get baked or the packages get sent late. But deep down we’re still resenting our lack of over achievement. We look at Pinterest, Instagram and Facebook and think, ‘why can’t I do that?’ We look at damn Elf on the Shelf set ups and smack ourselves on the head for forgetting that damned Elf for the second night in a row.

So I know what it feels like when we let our self loathing seep in to cloud our supposed Christmas joy. And here I’m telling you once again how to look past the minutia to remember the important things. Right?

I’m not preaching. I’m just trying to give myself a kick in the pants.

There’s a lot I didn’t do. I didn’t attend church this season. That bothers me because I love the Advent time. I just had interruptions or things going on that prevented me from getting up early on those Sunday mornings. I didn’t give to the Giving Tree this year either since I wasn’t there to collect the tags. But I’m also freaking out about my own bank account. Which is dumb since we have all that we need, but yet, it still seems to end up with more month than money as the days go by.

However, there’s a lot I did do.

I got up at 5 every morning to get Emma off to choir. I got the tree up, the gifts bought, the house in order and still continued working on my YouTube channel. Which, hello? is like a job. It is my job. As much as people wonder what the heck it is I do, that’s what I do. I didn’t have a complete melt down-throw-myself-on-the-floor-freak-out, even though I wanted to. Which hey- that’s something right??

And the best part- Emma is world’s better than she was at this time last year. We had visits to the ER for chronic pain, we missed out on things like choir concerts, visits to Santa, and hanging out with friends. She missed school, she was miserable. Not this year. She’s babysitting, singing, decorating, wrapping, going to school, giving me all the sass she can!! And I am so grateful for it. It really is last year’s Christmas wish come true. So what if it’s 12 months late.

Here’s my advice for managing these next couple days.

Pick one thing. Pick the thing that gives you joy, that you can send all your positive energy to that says, ‘this is Christmas. This is how I will remember the season and embrace it.’

Give yourself the allowance to not get everything done. To lasso your sanity or whatever is left of it by letting things off your list. Watch frickin’ Hallmark Channel movies. These completely help me forget all my troubles. And then remember again how dirty my house is and why I can’t wear heels in snow.

I’m embracing the children I have who are healthy, the roof over my head, and the husband that hogs the covers.

My Christmas memories as a child are the feeling I had in my house with my parents- feeling cozy, feeling safe. I remember Cabbage Patch dolls and Barbies, sure. But I remember the cups of tea my dad made, the goose my mom cooked that filled the house with savory scents that if I smell today, takes me back to 1978. We didn’t have fancy trips to the city to see the Nutcracker. Or big parties to attend and lavish gifts. We had each other. I remember the hand made matching Christmas outfits for me and my sister! Mom was very good with a sewing machine and a Butterick pattern.

Our children will remember how they felt. Not what they didn’t get.

They will remember the joy you gave them just by not losing your shit.

I’m saying Merry Christmas because I celebrate Christmas. But if you celebrate something else, I am still wishing you a merry time. Peace and love folks, right?

There’s so much reflection this time of year. We have holiday cards with beautiful family photos, Christmas letters (or blogs if you will), Facebook even likes to take us through the highlights of the year through pictures and posts.

Is it the lights on the tree? The candles flickering on my tabletop? The sappy Hallmark movie on TV? What is it that makes me cry with intense gratitude this time of year? The beauty of everything is decked with sparkle and lights, red pops of color and greenery. Spring is gorgeous too, but it doesn’t get this much attention!

However, this time of year can be somewhat ugly. It can fill us with resentment. Despair. Feelings of inadequacy. We can’t always give our kids what they want. Maybe our house doesn’t look like anything on Pinterest. Or you didn’t get the wreath up and the lights have been up all year to the chagrin of the neighbors.

Money is tight. End of year expenses come up. Kids are sick. Water heaters go out. Ugh.

My mom always took the time to show me that it’s truly the small things this time of year that matter the most. The big things, like hope, love and family, are of course front and center. But you truly have to look for the little things to make Christmas come to your heart.

I like to light candles, have a Christmas cookie with my tea, heck, have a cup of tea sitting by the tree, whenever I can, to remind me, Christmas is here. Enjoy it.

But sometimes we yell back at that inner voice, “I’M TRYING ASSHOLE BUT I DON’T FEEL LIKE IT!”

This year was such a mixed bag. I’ve never had to deal before with a sick kid. Emma’s chronic pain and endometriosis issues have been a struggle since March. Even since her surgery in June, (you can read about that here) she hasn’t been 100%. Every day she is in pain to a varying degree. She misses a lot of school. We’ve had two trips to the Emergency Room because of intense pain. The kind that registers a 10 on the pain scale when the nurses ask you.

I’ve gone around and around with specialists, psychologists, counselors, teachers, well meaning family members, who all want to help, but don’t seem to have the magic answer.

What’s hard for Emma is that she’s learning there is no magic answer, and that’s a bitter pill to swallow. Sentencing a 14 year old to a future of chronic pain just because she happens to be female, doesn’t make sense to someone who just wants to sing at her school choir concert. Who would like to party with her friends at Homecoming instead of leaving half way through because of the misery she’s in. To do an after school activity or her passion- trapeze- again without being in agony.

That’s been our year. And here it’s Christmas time and she’s been too miserable to see Santa. Yes, I know she’s 14. But we still do the Santa thing. I told her and her brother they will be doing Santa for me until they are married with kids of their own.

She wants to do ALL THE THINGS. But she can’t. And sometimes she’s okay with it and sometimes she cries in her pillow.

Here’s the part that makes me feel like a butthead for complaining. We had an AWESOME year of experiences. Like meeting President Obama, going to the Emmys, going to Disneyland, even Emma meeting her favorite YouTubers was a huge highlight of our year.

I guess it just always proves that life is as much a bowl of cherries as it is a bag of dicks.

So I hope that even when the shitter’s full, you can have peace in your heart. This post sure went sideways didn’t it?!

Merry ________________ (Christmas) to all! And here’s to 2015 being more awesome than sucky.

I have been very good this year. I have cleaned up more pee behind the toilet than I can imagine, I have scooped plenty of cat poop, dog poop, cat puke and dog puke. Not to mention the dog puke I have caught in my actual bare hands. I have not smothered McSweetie with a pillow when he uses the last square of toilet paper leaving me high, and well, not dry.

So in the spirit of giving, I would like world peace, an end to world hunger, all the orphans to be adopted, a self folding dryer, and all the Kate Spade hand bags you can fit in your sleigh.

That’s really not too much to ask. Okay fine. That’s a lot to ask.

How about instead, I can get something from just these brands I list? See? Easy peasy.

Thanks Santa! Love, Frugie

Welcome to Holiday Gift Giving by Frugie

I wanted to give you guys my favorite things, kind of like Oprah, but instead of free refrigerators and iPads, I can only offer some discount codes! Also, because these are small, family owned businesses, you’ll be helping them have a great holiday too by shopping from their sites.

Don’t laugh, but I seem to be jewelry heavy in my list- from handmade, to global treasures, I know you will find something to put on your wish list.

JJ Caprices

Want a necklace from Paris? How about earrings from Israel? Something so unique and gorgeous, you will feel like royalty. Jen from JJ Caprices travels everywhere to buy jewelry to sell on her site. I totally want to be her. She goes to gorgeous destinations and brings back equally gorgeous baubles. I met her at MamaCon and fell in love with her gorgeous pieces. AND for my readers she has a 10% discount code- FRUGALISTA. You will love the unique pieces and there’s something in every price range.

Penny Jules

Like handmade jewelry with a quirky side? Are you a Doctor Who or Harry Potter fan? Penny Jules incorporates charms and whimsy in each piece that has a distinct characteristic from your favorite iconic movies, pop culture favorites and Disney movies. You will gush over the cuteness. Remember my Doctor Who tardis necklace in my favorites video? Check her out-

Last jewelry site, I promise.

Starfish Project

How would you like to buy jewelry and help a woman over come poverty and exploitation in Asia? Starfish Project employs women in Asia to make jewelry, earn a living, get vocational training, health care and counseling that otherwise wouldn’t have that opportunities.

This Black Friday they have a Buy One Get One deal. Check it out.

Now how do you plan on wrapping all that?

Artistry Gift Wrap

Check out Artistry Gift Wrap for a truly unique gift wrap and giving experience. I love these papers. You can get greeting cards, ribbons, and bows and so many cute bibs and bobs. What are bits and bobs? I don’t know. BUT having seasonal gift wrap sent to you with a subscription service is a gift in itself. Maybe you have that crafty aunt, or awesome neighbor that has a ‘gift room’. They will be wowed by Artistry Gift Wrap. Check out their November specials BLACKFRI40 and soon to be December specials.

Kate Ryan Skincare

Looking for fabulous skin care that’s not a lot of money, but completely natural and without unnecessary ingredients? Kate Ryan Skincare is a company run by 3 women who want what’s best for women and their faces and their budgets! Amazing products and you need to try their Pumpkin Enzyme Peel to keep the winter months from dulling your skin. Every Kate Ryan Skincare package comes like a little present- I love it. I have a YouTube video using their products.

Women for Women International

And now for something a little different. Want to get a gift for someone but that will benefit someone else? How about buying some baby chicks for a mom in Nigeria? Or a goat for a woman in Afghanistan? Women for Women International is an organization that matches you with a ‘sister’ that lives in parts of the world such as the middle east or other war torn nations that without these programs, would be without education, job training or even safety. I love hearing who my sister is every 6 months. I’ve gotten Christmas cards, Easter cards and other tokens of gratitude from a woman around the globe, that I’ve never met, but thanking me and telling me I’m in her prayers because of the difference my money has done for her. Over 8 countries, more than 420,000 women have been saved from crisis and poverty through this program. Please check them out and see what you can give.

I hope these gift ideas give you inspiration and help make your holiday season a little brighter. I completely endorse and stand behind each one of these brands and was in no way compensated for this post. I just want to spread good cheer! Let them know I sent you.

I say that there’s no better time to prepare your home for house guests than the holidays. I get more done in the 20 minutes before folks come over than during the whole week,

Here’s my logical and yet, maybe not so obvious tactics on making your guests comfortable. Or somewhat comfortable.

Use closets, the garage, the office and the master bedroom to hide all the shit that’s been piling up all year. I’m talking about the kids’ Easter baskets and trick or treat bags; you know what I’m talking about.

Practice the phrase, “And I just cleaned it this morning, and look at it already!”

Fill your house with wafting, tempting scents that will distract guests. Like bacon.

Put out plenty of alcohol, spirits and alcohol. This is also a good distraction.

Wear clothing that isn’t covered in pet hair.

Remove the bra from behind the couch cushions your teenager shoved there one night while she was watching YouTube. (What? 13 year olds get tired of those things too you know!)

Try to remove cat or dog hair from the butter dish. This is hard, I know.

Do a quick once-over to check for any ‘surprises’- used band-aids, underwear and popsicle sticks shoved under the coffee table or on chairs. Trust me on this. The day you don’t check for that stuff is the day it will be your son’s band aid face up on the chair Aunt Susan sits on and she’ll have it stuck to her skirt unknowingly.

This post originally was published 2 years ago. But I figure it deserves an encore. My feelings haven’t changed.

You know those commercials where the wife goes outside on Christmas morning. It’s snowing, she’s dressed perfectly with makeup on like a Kardashian, and everything, probably wearing a pretty mohair sweater, that’s white, yeah, cuz moms always wear fuzzy, WHITE sweaters, and there sits a new SUV with a big red bow on it. Or the jewelry commercial where the guy is hanging the ring box on the tree and says so smoothly, ‘ OH, what could THIS ornament be?? Why, maybe YOU should open it’. Gag.

I’m not sure why those jewelry and car commercials at Christmas time drive me batnuts. Is it because that will never happen to me? Am I jealous? I shouldn’t say never. Maybe one day, James and I will hit pay dirt and he’ll buy me a Mercedes for Christmas and put it in the driveway with a big red bow. And Hugh Jackman will step out of it with a cup of espresso and whisk me away to Australia to be on his Oprah reunion special. I’ll be so happy and grateful, Oprah will ask to be my friend and then Gayle will get jealous and run off with Steadman. Then Oprah will just have to adopt me (and my family) because she’ll be alone and need a friend. We’ll move in to her Chicago mansion with all her dogs and read books and have Dr. Oz over to talk about our bowel movements. It will be so. much. fun.

Instead of ridiculous commercials that only cater to a small, and I mean, small demographic, let’s have a commercial where the husband gives his wife a carpet steam cleaner and an Ov Glove, or a Ped Egg. Her eyes will well up with tears and she’ll offer to do all kinds of ‘favors’ for him. Or maybe he gets her a Victoria’s Secret nightgown that’s see-thru, she can only wear when the kids are in bed and she feels like lounging in underwires and shiny, cold satin. That would be a very realistic commercial. Really.

To James’ credit, one Christmas he did give me diamond earrings. It was the Christmas Owen was a baby. Sort of a delayed Push Present maybe? If I remember correctly, I had a sinus infection and bronchitis that Christmas, which I did pretty much every Christmas the children were little. I didn’t have make up on, I was in some kind of fuzzy jammies with teapots on them, and had one of those heated rice pack thingys on my head to relieve the sinus pressure. I think I asked him to turn OFF the video camera as to NOT document this moment in history since we didn’t want to traumatize our children in the future should they happen to find the tape and see mommy with suitcases under her eyes, no voice, and heat pads on her head. No makeup, no white mohair sweater. nada. zip.

It’s okay. I’m not bitter or anything. Really.

There’s more to Christmas presents than jewelry and luxury automobiles. There’s gifts that can’t be bought in stores. They’re made with love and glue. Lots of glue.

When I unwrap one of those gifts that the kids make in class with their school picture hanging in a foamy wreath, or a pipe cleaner tree, THOSE are the ones that make my eyes well up with tears.

We have a fake Christmas tree. Maybe Martha wouldn’t approve. I’m okay with that. Some families go to tree farms and cut down the tree themselves. Some go to a tree lot and pick out the best looking, least Charlie Browniest they can find.

We used to do that. And then there was the year James brought the chainsaw into the living room, and something had to change.

We never did the tree farm thing with the kids. Just the tree lot. We’d drive down the two miles to the fruit stand that sells the Christmas Trees in December. It’s right across from the Starbucks, that we would visit afterwards, or before, or both. The guy at the lot straps the tree on top of the minivan and off we go to decorate it. It’s like Norman Rockwell. Or the Griswolds. I don’t know if the Griswolds paid $95 dollars for their Fraiser Noble, but we did.

Emma and Owen were smaller. Probably 7 and 4. They knew what bad words were. Like ‘shit’ and ‘damn’. We tried to keep it innocent. Mostly. That would all change at the holidays.

Now, the tree strapped to the minivan was at least 8 or 9 feet tall. We wanted it grand in front of the living room window. It was also about 7 feet in diameter. And so pokey with all those pine needles. They don’t call them needles for nothing. We, James and I, mostly just James would lug the tree through the front door and shove it into the tree holder. This would take a lot of screaming on my part, because of the pokey needles, and that it weighed 400 pounds at least. Getting it just so, in the hole with the screw thingys all tight meeting in the middle. This would work very easily with a 5 foot tree, about 4 feet in diameter and with a trunk only about 6 inches. This tree we got, had a trunk about a foot wide. Clearly our tree isn’t going to fit. But what’s hard about realizing this, is you are still holding this 800 pound tree (it gets heavier with each minute that passes) with all the pokey needles in your hands and up your nose and stuff. You can’t just lay down a 9 foot tree in your living room. Well, you can, but then your couch will probably have sap all over it and pine needles all over the carpet. Which are anyway after it didn’t fit through the front door and it needed to be shoved over the threshold. So I stood there holding it up and James says he’ll be right back. Meanwhile the children are anxiously putting ornaments on it while you are holding it, and you’re telling them now is not the time to hang Rudolph on the branches and that Daddy is going to fix it so we can get the tree to stay up without mommy holding it up. So BACK OFF. I mean, ‘Go watch Dora for a minute sweeties’.

So the part I haven’t told you yet, is the colorful words that come forth from daddy when the tree doesn’t fit. I don’t know why he’s the one swearing. I’m the one holding the 1200 pound tree. But I’m not swearing in front of the children, because that would be wrong. When he returns to the living room, he is holding a chainsaw. Or was it a circular saw? It was a power tool with ‘saw’ in the end of it’s name. I think it plugged in instead of using a pull string to start it. So maybe it wasn’t a chainsaw. Either way, it looked dangerous. And dirty. And not something that belongs in my living room.

Laying down the tree-very carefully-(because I am NOT holding it anymore since power tools are involved). James starts cutting the crap out of the bottom of the stump to fit it into the tree stand. There’s wood chips flying everywhere. It was working. Sort of. What was this tree made out of, metal? It was very loud and I worried that he wasn’t wearing protective eye wear. I think there was a knot in the branch that was at the bottom of the tree. It would be nice if the tree guys could whittle it down like a pencil to fit perfectly in the tree stand. But that’s hindsight I guess. So James fought that knot in the stump with valor. It had no chance. Eventually.

Once we heaved ho-ed it into the stand, screwed in the screws at the bottom, took turns standing across the room squinting to see if it was straight or not, James got the pleasure of getting the massive spider’s web nest of tree lights out of the bin to find that probably 3 out of 5 strands had dud bulbs in them and he needed to go to the hardware store anyway. More swear words. At this point the children have learned the finer language of truck drivers or sailors, or long shore men- just pick a profession that swears a lot and that is what the children learned.

So, to make a long story, kind of longer. We decided that even though it might not be eco friendly- totally sentimental, or even have that piney smell, it was time to get a fake tree. We didn’t care that they were made in China, that you paid about $400 for a decent one. We just wanted to save Christmas from the litany of profanity that came with the tree. It was our duty as parents.

So the next year, we packed up the kids and drove to Ace (it’s about a half mile from our house) and picked the display model that was discounted for only $150 (a steal!) and, you guessed it, went to Starbucks after to celebrate. The cool thing about most artificial trees is they come pre-strung. The lights are all good to go. You pop it together, plug it in and voila, O Tannenbaum.

Now Emma says when we put the tree up, “It’s just not the same without daddy swearing.” Cheeky.

Okay, we did more than survive it. We sucked the life out of it and showed it who’s boss. Well, really, I just ate too much, drank a little too much and have become a vegetative shell of a human.

This is why bears hibernate during the winter. I don’t think mammals are programmed for much activity once the Winter Solstice kicks in. I’ve been sleeping in and so have the children, except Christmas morning- when Owen came in my room, “It’s 6:04 mom. You said we could get up at 6:00.” Sure kid, Merry Christmas to you too.

I’ve been eating every carb in sight. This might not be new for you either. Cinnamon bread, scones, and coffee. You’d think I’d have more energy with the amount of coffee and sugar I am consuming. Far from it. I seem to just plan my day around which warm, caffeinated beverage I will have next. What creamer or syrup will it be this time? Gingerbread, pumpkin? Hazelnut? Coconut?

My waistline is starting to resemble Augustus Gloop’s mother’s. It’s starting to form into a tire shape with it’s own treads.

But enough complaining. We had a blast. The kids enjoyed their stuff. They were even (gasp) nice to each other and to us. I shall share with you a Christmas photo montage of our fabulous holiday.

Here goes-

But wait, there’s more. My best gift, aside from the Lululemon jacket McSweetie got me, or even the spending $$ my MIL got me, Emma wrote me a ‘vignette’. I writing assignment in Language Arts class that pretty much can have any content, no plot line and not even complete sentences. Sounds like my blog doesn’t it? Anyway- it went something like this-

“Mama is proud of me when I am performing, tears trickle down Mama’s face. Salty hot tears of joy swell up in her eyes. Those eyes that are forests. Forests in autumn when the leaves start to change, crisp, yellow. Mama’s eyes are a burst of all those trees changing, changing, changing. Mama is beautiful.”

Okay that’s all I can type until I start with my own hot salty tears again down my face.

I made wassail for you. Okay, it’s not really wassail, because it isn’t made from cider and it’s not to celebrate the apple harvest. But I digress… I made mulled wine and show you can too in this little video.

Holy crap, the cat video bombs- again! It’s 5 minutes and you can sit with your beverage and watch. I even sing. People, I don’t hold back for your entertainment.

And don’t forget to watch, click and share. I get paid in m&m’s for my videos now and you will save my mom so much trouble trying to accumulate all those views herself.

I don’t always like to blog about controversial topics. I don’t. But I’m a writer. So I write my feelings. My blog is my voice and I try to use my voice with a purpose. Here are my thoughts on the horrible event at Sandy Hook elementary in Connecticut.

The fact of the matter is- I hate guns. But before all my NRA readers get hot under the collar at me- give me a chance here. I support the 2nd Amendment. Sure. I don’t like it, but that’s my opinion. You can carry a handgun. You can own hunting rifles. But get those mother fucking automatic assault rifles out of the hands of citizens. I don’t know why we don’t agree on that. The assault ban law expired years ago. Why?

So with that said, yes, I’m sure I’ve pissed some people off, BUT- here is what I know we can agree on. The persons who have committed these atrocities in the last year, and the last 10 years, all were mentally ill. Right? Nobody does this is thinking soundly. Clearly we can use these examples as a learning tool. Can’t we?

Politicians, lobbyists, activists, LISTEN UP- we need to stop reacting in a knee-jerk fashion, pointing fingers, spending millions of dollars on lobbying, blaming parties (this is not a party issue, I assure you.) I have Republican friends who hate guns and Democratic friends who own them. We need to get to the root of the problem and fix those who are mentally unsound.

It isn’t easy. I’m not stupid. But why do all the stories of family members and acquaintances to these criminals start with, “I knew something wasn’t right with them…”

I don’t know how you can argue your right to bear arms of a semi automatic firearm to a mother who’s 5 year old was gunned down while sitting in their Kindergarten class. Or tell the surviving children of that class why their teacher’s son came with so much fire power to kill his own mother and their classmates.

This could have happened anywhere, to anyone. It has. We’ve seen it. From Amish communities, high schools, movie theaters, places of worship… there is no place safe in America. There just isn’t.

So this is why I’m asking those that sound off in the argument on this to be kind, to be respectful, to honor those that are surviving the aftermath. Yes, people kill people. But guns used by people kill people too. Terrible things will continue to happen in our world. This event rips out our hearts because we can’t understand it. The fact is, more children die from auto accidents, bicycle accidents, and childhood cancer than they will from a mass shooting. But why does it always feel like there was something that could’ve been done?

30,000 people have friends and family members who are missing them in just this passed year lost to gun violence. My question is for all of us, what can we do to lower that number? What can we do to protect people’s rights, without threatening people’s safety.

What countries in our world have fewer gun deaths and better mental health provisions? What is their system? This isn’t a socialist or capitalist problem. This is an American problem. We need to honestly and thoroughly look at every single possibility we can do to prevent this, or minimize this from happening again.

The date on the calendar, 11 days until Christmas, makes this more painful. I think about the presents I’ve already wrapped for my children that are under the tree, that are unwrapped hidden around the house in special places. Their advent calendars happily opened each morning. I can’t not break into tears thinking of those advent calendar doors that will go unopened in those houses in Connecticut.

It’s been a while since I’ve done a Reason to Live Friday- so for today, I’m dedicating it to making the world better, one woman at a time.

Some of you may flinch at the memory of the 80s hit song- ‘Do they know it’s Christmas?’. Personally, I love it. I do. It was created by Bob Geldof. Not Gandalf. Gandalf is the wizard in the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings books who has a long gray beard and carries a staff. Bob Geldof is a song writer and humanitarian. Sometimes it’s easy to confuse the two.

Okay, back to the song. There’s a few reasons I love listening to it. The bells and chords in it are pretty cool. Then there’s the game you play to identify which 80s British singer you are listening to when they sing their part. I’ll be in my car going, “oh, that’s Boy George.” Or “is that Simon LeBon?” George Michael and Bono are so easy to identify.

But the words about ‘there’s no snow in Africa’ and ‘thank God it’s them, instead of you’, rips my heart out. The last thing Africa needs is snow. But maybe some rain would be nice. And honestly, aren’t you all glad it’s them and not you?

There’s poor everywhere in the world. But Africa is poor and war torn. The Sally Struthers commercials with the kids covered in flies and their distended bellies always is etched in my mind. She would say, ‘for just the cost of a cup of coffee, you can clothe and feed a child.’ Amazing how far a dollar goes.

Sorry to bum you out. That’s not my point. My point is just to plant a seed of thought in your head.

Have you heard of Women for Women International? It’s this amazing company that teaches women in war torn 3rd world countries how to run their own business to support their families. Every 6 months I receive a new ‘sister’s’ profile and all about her situation. I’ve had women in Afghanistan, Nigeria and Rwanda.

My current sister, Yvonne, is in Rwanda, she is in her 20s and is married but has no children. Rwanda? Can you believe it! Can you imagine living there? No.

I’ve received Easter cards, Christmas cards and photos from my sponsored sisters. Some come with photos. I usually burst into tears because they write that I’m such a blessing and I’ve done this amazing thing for them and their family and they pray for me and my family…. Oh my gosh!!

Yeah. Of course the Christmas card comes at Easter, and the Easter card comes at Christmas because I think they still operate by Pony Express in 3rd world countries. Okay, sorry, bad joke.

Well, I know there’s poor everywhere. There’s poor here in my own neighborhood and hungry children at my kids’ schools. And yes, I do what I can to help them too. But the idea of a woman, who has to fight to survive whether it’s war, rape, famine, drought; who doesn’t know how to read or write; who is treated like property instead of a person; I need to be a part of that change.

I got a message from them to hope I could spread the word this holiday time with the hopes that some of you could do some gift giving through their program. You know buy some chicks or a goat for a family that needs it. Forget iPads and Prada handbags, these women want a goat for Christmas.

If you’d like, we can all pitch in. Message me if you want to contribute a few dollars and we’ll get some goats and chicks for these remarkable women!